Monthly Archives: November 2011

When I see the spring-hinged door that leads down into god-knows-where propped open with a word wedged at an angle in its mouth, I cannot always tell whether the word is coming out or climbing back in. Advertisements

Something about a tomato wants to be worshipped, coaxes lips to move in unison. Fat Buddha on the windowsill, unperturbed, satisfied, the summer’s sunlight gathered and held. In multitude, in excess we bring the great giving fruit to friends, we … Continue reading →

Her finger points a twining route east, following neon highlighter across roads too small to name. He had wanted to go west into the impossible. A shift-torqued firestorm of hydrocarbons. He accelerates towards the smell of water. It’s not an … Continue reading →

Every autumn, as the bright lamps extinguish along the roadside, leaves strewn, blowing, brilliant, I imagine I will collect the very best of the maples, the sycamores, the fire of New England and put them in a box for her … Continue reading →

She sits next to me on the couch, smiling. I say, “what.” Mock-offended, she says “I just wanted to sit with you.” I try to tell her about November. How open and bare, how the landscape has changed. I want … Continue reading →

This halo of arms, this magic spell, this incantation of arms I hold you with, these arms of yours, arms of mine, arms of dark ground, arms reaching for the bones of your grief — I take you inside this … Continue reading →